


Partner (Then and Now)

by nightwalker



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Bonding, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e08 Mana'o (Belief), Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2011-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/pseuds/nightwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve laid a hand on Danny's shoulder and just like that it was like Danny could breathe again and whatever breaking point he'd reached was pushed just a bit further away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partner (Then and Now)

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after the end of episode eight, _Mana'o_. Minor spoilers for the episode itself. Rating is mostly for language.

Right about the time Danny realized he was clenching his teeth more than he was smiling and that his knuckles were white around the neck of the beer bottle he'd been nursing, was about the time Steve reappeared at his shoulder. McGarrett had spent most of the evening with Chin, helping Kono form something of a barrier between their exiled teammate and the people who had turned him out, leaving Danny to stand with Amy and remember Meka with his friends, his coworkers, the people who hadn't even been willing to open their mouths long enough to help Danny bring his killers to justice.

He dragged in a deep breath and made himself take a step back from it all, and that's when Steve came back.

"Danno," he said, laying a hand on Danny's shoulder and just like that it was like Danny could breathe again and whatever breaking point he'd reached was pushed just a bit further away.

"Guys, you know my partner. Steve McGarret." He gestured at his former coworkers with the mostly empty beer and couldn't bring himself to introduce them all by name.

Steve took them all in at a glance, reserved and distant, and Danny knew it was petty but he could hug the guy. Tomorrow he'd go back to bitching that Steve needed to at least _try_ to make nice with the HPD. Tonight Danny couldn't make himself care.

"It's getting late," Steve said. "If you're okay here, I'm going to call a cab and head home." His hand was still on Danny's shoulder and he totally shot a sideways glance at Meka's former – _Danny's_ former – coworkers as he said it.

"Chin and Kono left already. And they were your ride. Right." Danny waggled the beer bottle as if Steve might not have noticed it. "Let me throw this out and say goodbye to Amy and I'll drive you home."

"You don't have to," Steve said, but Danny waved him off.

"Just – be right back." Danny raised a hand absently to excuse himself from the conversation happening around him and slipped away. He poured what was left of his beer down the sink and put the bottle in with the recycling, then stood in the kitchen for a long minute, hands on the counter and head hanging low, and just breathed. He could remember coffee – Amy's god-awful coffee that was still better than the stuff the station had to offer. And muffins, or fresh bread with jam that she'd make him eat in the mornings when he came to pick up Meka, scolding him for eating like a bachelor. Their son – Grace's age, and they'd planned to have some kind of joint family outing, introduce their kids, see if they hit it off. Now Danny was glad they never got around to it, because he didn't have to explain any of this to Grace.

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and went to look for Amy.

* * *

He found Steve in the front room, standing in front of the memorial. Steve had the picture in his hands, the one of Danny and Meka posing for the camera, Danny grinning his head off as he threatened Meka with a closed fist. He sighed and Steve set the picture back on the table with cautious reverence.

"He was a good friend," Steve said.

Danny nodded, suddenly more tired than he'd been in days, in weeks. "He was a good partner," he said, and if his voice cracked a little, got caught on the word, Steve didn't say anything about it. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

He tossed Steve the keys as soon as they were out the door. Three beers wasn't much, but he was tired and angry and there were a lot of things he didn't trust himself with right then. "So Chin and Kono just abandoned you, huh?" he asked as he climbed into the car.

Steve nodded. "I might have asked them to."

"Yeah?" Danny said, letting his head rest against the back of the seat and wondering if he could just fall asleep there.

"You looked like you might need a way out," Steve said. He cast Danny a quick sideways glance. "I figured if you wanted an excuse to leave, you'd offer to drive me home. If you didn't want one, I could always catch a cab or make Chin come back for me."

"Sneaky SEAL," Danny said. "That was very perceptive of you."

Steve snorted as he pulled away from the curb. "Not very perceptive. You looked like you were ten minutes from punching someone in the face."

Less than ten minutes, if Danny was honest with himself. "Thanks for being there. It means something, you know?" It meant a lot, because Danny's done this before. He'd been to a cop's wake, and it was impossible not to imagine how easily it all could have been yours; the weeping widow, the wide-eyed and pale-faced child, the guilt-struck surviving partner. Danny had never lost a partner before – not like this, he's had them retire or get reassigned; before Meka his partner had retired after thirty years on the force to settle down with his wife and start a late-in-life family. But he'd been there, he'd gone to offer support and he'd done what every cop in that room had done; thanked god it wasn't him, or his partner, and try not to let any of it show.

He'd done that tonight, too, and felt the guilt curdle in his stomach as he thanked god it hadn't been him, or Steve or Kono or Chin. He missed Meka, grieved for him, would have died to save him, if he'd had the chance. But thank god it hadn't been Steve.

Maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd thought, or maybe he was just more tired than he'd realized, but they arrive at his apartment before he'd finished sorting the thoughts out in his head. Steve had the car in park and was letting himself out almost before Danny realized they were there.

"Wait, how are you getting home?" he asked as he damn near leveraged himself out of the car, only to lean against the side of it, too tired to move any further. "You want to take the car? Just – swing by in the morning and I'll take you to your truck. Or I can take a cab out to your place tomorrow."

"Worry about it later," Steve said. He offered Danny a hand, which Danny wasn't too proud to accept, and dragged him upright. "Come on. Let's get you inside. Christ, have you slept at all?"

"No," Danny said honestly. "My old partner got murdered and then my new partner was a total jackass, and in between there was a lot of investigating and apprehending criminals. It has been a _stressful week_ , Steven."

Steve huffed a little as he ushered Danny toward his front door. "I deserve that. Come on. Left foot, right foot."

"Jackass," Danny repeated as he let Steve herd him into the dark apartment. "Total jackass." The sofa bed was still pulled out and covered with rumpled sheets and he tossed himself down, toed off his shoes and melted into the crappy, crappy mattress. "Beer's in the fridge," he told Steve, who was still standing by the door. "Help yourself."

Steve shook his head. "I am probably one beer away from being unfit to drive."

"So have it anyway," Danny said. "I'll pay for the cab."

"That-" Steve let out a breath of air. "That sounds like a plan."

Steve didn't bother turning on the light to cross the room, though he did trip over something in the general direction of the Barbie Dream House, and the light from the fridge seemed yellow and wan in the dark apartment. There was the clink of glass, the hiss of bottles being opened, then the door shut and Steve was back, settling himself on the couch beside Danny, propped up on pillows and offering Danny a beer.

They drank in silence, listening to the cars outside, the rattle and hum of the ancient air conditioning, the footsteps and muted voices of the neighbors going about their evening.

"I'm sorry, you know," Steve said finally into the dark room. "I'm sorry about Meka and what they did to him. I'm sorry I didn't get your back sooner. I'm still learning this partner thing. I'll get better."

"You're doing all right," Danny said. He shrugged, felt his shoulder bump against Steve's. "You only got me shot that one time and you buy me donuts, so."

"Malasadas," Steve corrected. "And since you're one step closer to a heart attack with every one I buy you, I'm not sure that qualifies me for good partner status."

"Good partners bring coffee, too," Danny said because why not. Steve might take a hint. "Anyway, despite being an insensitive jackass – at which you absolutely _excel_ , might I add, I mean, you really rolled out the first rate douchebaggery on this case and that's coming from – I mean, I'm from _Jersey_ , we have a whole reality show devoted to our douchebags and you just put them all to shame, all you need is some hair product and a trip to the tanning salon because those guys manage to look more baked on the shores of Jersey, where we actually have _four_ seasons, than actual Hawaiians who go surfing for _Christmas_ , but the point I was trying to make before we got side-tracked here-"

"We?" Steve said.

"You shut up. It is not your turn to talk. As I was _saying_ , despite your determination to be a total jackass, you had my back when it mattered. That's what makes a good partner." Tears burned his eyes and he sucked in a deep breath through lungs suddenly tight with regret. "I wasn't a very good partner to Meka. I didn't get his back when he needed me."

"You would have if you'd known." Steve clasped a steady hand around Danny's wrist. "And they'd have killed you, too. And I'd be the one burying a partner today."

"It sucks," Danny said, voice harsher than he meant it to be. "I can't recommend it."

"No," Steve said, and Danny was a little glad for the dark then, because Steve sounded almost as rough as he did. "I'm still learning, but I've already figured that part out."

"I'll have your back when the time comes," Danny said. "I'd say 'if the time comes' but we have ridiculous jobs and we both know better. Also you're crazy, so that ups the odds."

Steve's breath was an exhale so heavy Danny thought he could almost feel it through the mattress. "I'll try to be less crazy."

"Liar." Danny gave the shadows on the ceiling a rueful grin. "You say that now because you keep seeing the crime scene photos in your mind and imagining it's me."

Steve's grip on his arm practically convulsed. "If it had been – if someone had done that to you-"

"You'd have done worse than punch them in the face a few times," Danny acknowledged. "Which – I'm glad you stopped me, by the way, don't know if I said that before – but yeah. The mental image of you dumping my murderer in a shark cage will keep me warm and cozy through many a firefight."

"There wouldn't be a cage," Steve said in a low voice. He sounded like he was confessing to something he thought Danny wouldn't approve of – like questionable interrogation techniques or teaching Grace how to rock climb. And yeah, Steve still had a thing or two to learn about partners, but he had the big stuff down. The important stuff.

"That's good," Danny said. "I've always felt it was unwise to tease the sharks that way. I've seen _Jaws_."

"New Jersey," Steve said. "How does this conversation keep coming back to New Jersey?"

"Because New Jersey is amazing."

Steve nudged him with his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that's not true."

Danny sighed. "Can you – just for now, just for, like, a few days – try not to be a crazy person? Can you do that for me? Don't – don't provoke anyone to shoot at you or jump off any buildings or leap in front of moving vehicles, okay? Can you do that? Just until the weekend? For me?" Because their jobs really were ridiculous and Meka had been careful, cautious and meticulous and Steve was _none_ of those things. Because the black ribbon slashed across his badge felt like it weighed fifty fucking tons, weighing down his chest and making him drag in air for every breath. Because Steve had a lot to learn but he was already the best partner Danny'd ever had.

"I can do that," Steve said. He tugged on Danny's wrist, slid his hand down until their hands clasped together and held on tight. "Just for you – I'll see about extending it all the way to Monday."

"Thanks," Danny said. "I get how hard that is for you."

Steve chuckled, short and sort of startled, but genuinely amused and Danny bumped him with his shoulder.

His lungs were still tight and his eyes burned at unexpected moments. He could still feel the weight of the ribbon on his chest. Meka was – Meka was gone, sooner and crueler than he should have been and Danny had failed him.

But he couldn't hate himself for the little voice that echoed round and round in his mind. Thank god it hadn't been Steve.


End file.
